CHAPTER TWO : THE MORNING AFTER
1953 Words
Elena woke to the sound of rain.
For several seconds, she lay perfectly still.
Her eyes remained closed.
She listened.
Rain against the window.
The distant hum of traffic.
A bird somewhere outside.
The quiet groan of the pipes inside the walls.
Normal sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
She opened her eyes.
Morning light spilled through the curtains.
Elena stared at the ceiling.
For a moment, she couldn’t remember why she felt afraid.
Then she remembered the dream.
The woman with the wings.
The strange city in the sky.
The voice.
Aurelia.
Her stomach tightened.
She sat up.
The room looked exactly as it had the night before.
Almost.
Elena frowned.
She looked toward the window.
The glass was intact.
She looked at the wall.
No crack.
She looked at the floor.
Nothing.
Her bedroom was completely normal.
She slowly got out of bed.
The moment her feet touched the floor, she stopped.
There was no broken glass.
No blood.
No strange symbols.
No evidence that anything had happened.
Elena stared at her hands.
She turned them over.
Then she examined her palms.
Smooth.
Unmarked.
She pressed her thumb against the place where the glass had cut her.
Nothing.
“Okay.”
She laughed nervously.
“Okay, Elena.”
She was talking to herself.
She knew that.
But somehow, saying her name aloud made her feel better.
“You’re fine.”
She walked toward the mirror.
Her reflection stared back.
Dark hair tangled around her shoulders. Puffy eyes. Bare face. A faint crease across her cheek from sleeping on one side.
Just Elena.
Twenty-four years old.
Tired.
Confused.
Human.
She leaned closer to the mirror.
Her eyes looked normal.
Brown.
Not golden.
She touched her face.
Normal.
She lifted her arms.
Normal.
Then she noticed something.
A tiny mark just below her collarbone.
Elena frowned.
She pulled her shirt down slightly.
It looked like a bruise.
A faint golden discoloration beneath the skin.
She touched it.
Nothing happened.
“Probably nothing.”
She pulled her shirt back up.
She had always been good at pretending things were nothing.
The strange dreams were nothing.
The headaches were nothing.
The feeling of being watched was nothing.
The occasional whispers she heard when no one was around were nothing.
And whatever had happened last night…
That was nothing too.
It had to be.
She walked out of the bedroom.
“Mom?”
No answer.
Elena frowned.
Her mother usually woke earlier than her.
She checked the kitchen.
Empty.
The living room.
Empty.
Bathroom.
Empty.
Her mother’s bedroom door was open.
The bed was neatly made.
Elena’s stomach dropped.
She hurried back downstairs.
“Mom?”
A voice came from the kitchen.
“Why are you shouting this early in the morning?”
Elena stopped.
Her mother was standing beside the stove.
Alive.
Completely fine.
Wearing her usual robe and stirring something in a pot.
Elena stared at her.
Her mother looked over her shoulder.
“What?”
Elena shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“I thought you weren’t here.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been here since six.”
Elena glanced at the clock.
8:42.
She frowned.
“Six?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t hear anything last night?”
Her mother’s hand stopped moving.
“What kind of thing?”
Elena hesitated.
The question suddenly felt ridiculous.
What was she supposed to say?
Did you hear the lights exploding?
Did you see the man who wasn’t quite a man?
Did you hear someone call me Aurelia?
She swallowed.
“Nothing.”
Her mother studied her for a moment.
“You look pale.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Another nightmare?”
Elena looked away.
“Yeah.”
Her mother sighed.
“You’ve been having those since you were a child.”
“I know.”
“You should talk to someone.”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“Because I am.”
Her mother didn’t smile back.
Instead, she turned off the stove.
“Elena.”
Something about her mother’s tone made her look up.
“What?”
Her mother hesitated.
Then she asked quietly,
“Did you dream about the sky again?”
Elena froze.
The kitchen suddenly felt colder.
“What?”
“The sky.”
Her mother’s eyes remained fixed on her.
“The burning sky.”
Elena’s mouth went dry.
“How do you know about that?”
Her mother looked away.
For a moment, Elena thought she saw something flicker across her face.
Fear.
Not surprise.
Fear.
But then it disappeared.
“I’ve heard you talk in your sleep.”
Elena stared at her.
“You’ve never told me that.”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Mom.”
Her mother walked toward the counter.
“Breakfast is ready.”
“Mom.”
“You’re going to be late.”
Elena didn’t move.
Something had changed.
She could feel it.
Not because of what her mother had said.
Because of what she hadn’t said.
But before Elena could ask again, her phone began ringing.
She looked at the screen.
Maya.
Her best friend.
Elena answered.
“Hello?”
“Finally!”
Elena pulled the phone away from her ear.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Almost nine.”
“Exactly. And you promised you’d meet me at ten.”
Elena frowned.
“Today?”
“Yes, today.”
“Right.”
“You forgot?”
“No.”
“You absolutely forgot.”
“I didn’t.”
“You sound guilty.”
“I’m tired.”
Maya sighed dramatically.
“You need a life.”
“I have a life.”
“No. You have work, sleep, and those creepy dreams you refuse to explain.”
Elena smiled despite herself.
“You’re annoying.”
“And yet you love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Get dressed.”
“I will.”
“And Elena?”
“Yeah?”
Maya’s voice became serious.
“Are you okay?”
Elena looked toward her mother.
Her mother was pretending not to listen.
“I’m fine.”
“You sound strange.”
“I just didn’t sleep.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause.
“See you soon.”
“See you.”
Elena ended the call.
She looked at her mother.
Her mother was still staring at the pot.
“You’re hiding something.”
The spoon stopped.
“I’m your mother. Of course I am.”
Elena frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Her mother finally looked at her.
“It means every mother has secrets.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
For the first time that morning, her mother smiled.
Elena tried to smile back.
But something about the conversation stayed with her.
By ten, she was walking through the city with Maya.
The rain had stopped.
The streets were crowded.
Cars moved slowly through the wet roads while people hurried beneath umbrellas.
Everything looked ordinary.
Yet Elena couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Nothing.
A man crossing the street.
A woman standing outside a café.
A child holding his mother’s hand.
Nothing unusual.
“Stop looking behind you.”
Maya nudged her.
“I’m not.”
“You’ve done it six times.”
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
Elena laughed.
“Maybe I’m paranoid.”
“Maybe?”
They continued walking.
Maya suddenly stopped.
Elena turned.
“What?”
Maya was staring at something behind her.
“What?” Elena repeated.
Maya’s expression changed.
For a second, she looked confused.
Then she shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
Elena narrowed her eyes.
“You’re doing the exact thing you accused me of doing.”
“I just thought I saw someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Elena looked behind them.
A man stood across the road.
Black coat.
Dark hair.
Hands in his pockets.
He wasn’t looking at them.
At least, not directly.
Elena stared at him for a few seconds.
Something about him felt familiar.
Not his face.
His presence.
She couldn’t explain it.
The man suddenly looked up.
Their eyes met.
Elena’s breath caught.
His eyes were a strange shade of gray.
Almost silver.
He stared at her for one second.
Two.
Then a car passed between them.
When it was gone, the man had disappeared.
Elena looked around.
Nothing.
“Where did he go?”
Maya frowned.
“Who?”
“The man.”
“What man?”
“The one standing over there.”
Maya looked across the street.
“There’s no one there.”
Elena stared.
“He was just there.”
Maya gave her a concerned look.
“Elena.”
“What?”
“You really need to sleep.”
“I’m not imagining things.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You were thinking it.”
Maya smiled.
“Maybe.”
They continued walking.
Neither of them noticed the black bird perched on a streetlamp above them.
It watched Elena until she disappeared around the corner.
Then it flew away.
⸻
That evening, Elena sat alone in her room.
The city outside her window had gone quiet.
She was supposed to be working.
Instead, she had spent the last hour staring at the same blank document.
Her mind kept returning to the previous night.
The man.
The golden light.
The strange woman.
The name.
Aurelia.
She searched the name online.
Hundreds of results appeared.
Names.
Mythology.
Books.
Ancient stories.
Nothing that explained why she had heard it.
She clicked on one article.
AURELIA — MEANING AND ORIGIN
She read the first few lines.
Golden.
Radiant.
Associated with light.
Elena stared at the screen.
Golden.
She glanced down at the faint mark beneath her collarbone.
It was still there.
She touched it.
A strange warmth spread through her fingertips.
She immediately pulled her hand away.
“No.”
She closed the laptop.
She didn’t want to think about it.
She got into bed.
Turned off the light.
Closed her eyes.
For several minutes, everything was quiet.
Then she heard something.
A whisper.
Very faint.
Almost like someone speaking from another room.
Elena opened her eyes.
Silence.
She sat up.
“Mom?”
Nothing.
She looked toward the window.
The curtains were moving.
The window was closed.
Elena climbed out of bed.
She walked toward it.
As she reached the curtains, the movement stopped.
She slowly pulled them aside.
The street below was empty.
Then she saw something on the glass.
A reflection.
Not hers.
A woman stood behind her.
Tall.
Silver-haired.
Golden-eyed.
Six enormous wings stretched from her back.
Elena spun around.
Nothing.
Her room was empty.
Her heart pounded.
She looked back at the window.
Only her reflection remained.
She stood there for a long time.
Then, slowly, she whispered the name she had been trying not to remember.
“Aurelia.”
The lights flickered.
Elena stepped backward.
The lights steadied.
Nothing happened.
She let out a shaky breath.
“Just a dream.”
She returned to bed.
She didn’t notice the tiny golden symbol appearing on the inside of her wrist.
She didn’t notice it glowing faintly beneath her skin.
And she certainly didn’t notice the shadow standing on the roof of the building across from her window.
The figure watched her bedroom until her lights went out.
Then it whispered into the darkness,
“Not yet.”
And disappeared.
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